Snapshot
by icebreaker316
Summary: Question and Huntress find a way to make monitor duty a little more enjoyable.


Rated T for a grand total of two swear words and some questionable subject matter (no pun intended). This is completely plotless, mindless, and void of anything remotely intelligent, but I had the idea so I rolled with it. And I just really love Question and Huntress. Can't get enough of 'em!

Helena's POV.

x.x.x

Watchtower monitor duty, my favorite. Sometimes I wonder why I even agreed to come back to the League. But, then I remember and my heart skips a beat. How can a guy who cuts off the ends of his shoelaces make me feel like such a giddy schoolgirl? Must be his eccentric charm. Whatever it is, I love it, and I love him. Even if his head is in space sometimes, like right now. I'm the one doing all the monitoring while he shuffles through a stack of files. Figures.

I look over at him. He's quietly talking to himself, mumbling about scotch tape and high blood pressure. The mask is hiding his face, that beautiful face. I imagine his strong brow pinched together in concentration as his mind works at light speed.

"Hey Vic?" I ask. He immediately tears his eyes away from his work and looks up to meet my gaze. I've noticed he doesn't do this for anyone else. I picture those deep blue eyes staring at me from behind the blankness of the mask.

"Yes?" he says in the voice that gives me goosebumps.

"Can I ask you something?" I say seriously. His body turns towards me ever so slightly.

"Anything," he replies, just as seriously.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" I giggle immediately after I finish speaking. The tilt of his head and the shift of his ears let me know that he is smiling. He scoots closer to me.

"You really want to know?" he asks deeply. I smile and nod. He takes a deep breath before speaking again. "First, we should address exactly _how_ the chicken crosses the road."

As usual, I have no idea what he means. "By walking?" I suggest stupidly.

"Exactly. It walks. Common knowledge, right?"

"Yeah." As I peer into the nothingness of the mask, I attempt to think like he does, cynically and skeptically. "So, why does the chicken _walk_ across the road?"

"_That_," he whispers, "is the question." His empty face is inches from mine now. "And the answer is simple." I find myself mesmerized by his sheer charisma. "To fool us into thinking it can't fly." He could have said anything and I would have believed it. "Chickens are capable of flying, but their instincts tell them not to. When the time comes, a dormant gene will kick in and they will know to escape. Unable to catch and cultivate them, our food supply will be decimated. Chickens will bring mankind to its knees. Only then will we recognize our ignorance and finally understand their true motives in crossing the road." Silence is our only companion for several seconds. Finally, I find my voice again.

"You made that up, didn't you?"

"Every word, total bullshit," he snickers. I don't need the body language clues to know that a proud smirk is spread across his face. My fist flies up and I slam it into his upper arm.

His booming laughter fills the space around us, and I can't help but laugh too.

"Ok, that was mildly funny," I admit. "But you're still a demented jackass."

"Eh, what can you do?" he shrugs. An idea suddenly pops into my head. I look around, making sure there is no one else in the Monitor Womb.

"I can do this," I say provocatively. I reach for his black tie and start undoing the Full Windsor knot. Then, I pull it free of his neck, stand up from my chair and walk around behind him.

"Should I be afraid?" he asks.

I lean down to whisper in his ear. "Very." That silly Fedora needs to go, so I throw it onto the console and run my fingers through his black-but-truly-vibrant-red hair. He leans back into my hands as I massage his temples. Not letting him get too comfortable, I slip the tie over his head and place it directly above where I know his eyes are, tying it in the back.

"Uh oh," he squeaks. I let my hands slide down his neck, over his shoulders and onto his chest. Once my fingers strategically undo the top two buttons of his shirt, they slip underneath and explore the smooth, warm skin. His heart pounds against my touch, but he stays perfectly still. I start a trail of kisses from his neck, up around his jaw and onto his cheek, each one leaving pink smudge marks from my lip-gloss.

"H-Helena?" he stammers.

"Hmm?" I mumble as I nibble at his ear.

"When are we off monitor duty?"

"Twenty seven minutes."

"Damn," he groans in frustration.

"You gonna be able to make it that long?" The hand that isn't caressing his chest makes its way down to his leg.

"Unlikely." My hand crawls towards his inner thigh. Then my mind registers a strange, light gust of wind that hits the skin on my face.

"Smile!" says a cheery third voice. I shift my eyes up towards the sound and a flash of bright light blinds me. Through the twinkles, I see a blur of red standing in front of me. I suddenly become extremely aware of where my hands are.

"What was that?" asks Vic curiously. He remains a statue, the tie still covering his eyes.

"Ahh the beauty of digital cameras and email," says the voice smugly. The red blur is holding something small and silver, but before I know it, he's gone, leaving another light gust of wind in his wake. I seem to be frozen where I am, unable to move. At least I can still scream.

"FLAAASH!!!!!!"

The End.

x.x.x

I warned you. If you've been kind enough to stop by and read, it would be even kinder of you to review. And I was nerdy enough to start a sketch of the snapshot. Maybe if I feel confident enough I'll put it up on Deviantart, who knows? Thanks folks.


End file.
